A Rollicking Band of Metalsmiths We: PhoebexWorld
by Nenalata
Summary: A PhoebexAll the Mining Guys story that originally was supposed to be dramatic and then, uh....wasn't. Of course I don't think this would happen. Suggestive themes, mild Owen-assaulting and creepiness involved.


Calvin awoke one morning to discover that his wife, Phoebe, was neither in bed nor the kitchen. He figured she must have already gone over to the mines without him, though he was a little hurt she hadn't bothered to leave a note or anything.

He fixed himself a bowl of porridge and dressed, while Phoebe still didn't return. He sighed as he fixed his cowboy hat upon his blond hair. Whenever Phoebe was focused on a task or a new idea, nothing could seem to draw her out.

Owen liked Phoebe because whenever she was focused on something, nothing could seem to draw her out. She seemed a little worried about their affair, of course, but she showed no signs of wanting to draw back. He smiled as he thought of her this morning; she'd woken up extra-early to meet him at the beach to watch the sunrise with him, and after they'd kissed, she said she should head over to the mines so Calvin wouldn't get suspicious. She was so strong, that girl; so smart and tough.

Phoebe was a strong, smart, tough girl, so different from Candace that Julius couldn't help being drawn to her. While Candace's sweet and sensitive nature, so dependent on his, was always wonderful to come home to, sometimes he felt the need of a more assertive girl. Phoebe was just that. She seemed to have just tumbled out of bed in her haste to meet him; she hadn't even had time to comb her hair. She'd explained that Calvin had been talking in his sleep, so she knew he would wake up soon. Therefore, without hesitation (unlike his wife, Candace, would) she began their adulterous acts. Just as she knew Calvin would be waiting for her, she scooped up a lapis lazuli that they'd prepared as an excuse, and quickly darted home.

As soon as the hat was on Calvin's head, the door flew open, revealing his supposed-missing wife, bearing a sparkling lapis lazuli. Her hair was messed up and there was a mark on her neck.

"What's this?" he asked, referring to the stone. "And where have you been?"

"I was in the mines. I wanted to find you that diamond you've been wanting for a while, but this was all I could find." Phoebe placed the blue gem in a large bowl that they kept for such a purpose and turned to smile at him.

"Thank you, but…" Her glasses were askew. "You look terrible. What happened?"

Phoebe looked a little…embarrassed. "I fell through a pitfall," she muttered. "Landed neck-first on a toadstool. It's lucky my hands broke most of my fall; I nearly died."

Calvin could only stare at her, horrified. "I'm so glad you're okay, Pheeb. Gosh, you didn't need to go to all that trouble for me." He studied the toadstool-mark on her neck. It looked oddly familiar, but his worry overcame his doubt.

"I'm fine now," she said, waving a hand aside as she headed into the bathroom to clean up. "And it's no problem."

No problem at all, Phoebe reminded herself as she looked at her serious reflection in their mirror. No one will ever suspect. None of them. She was so focused on her thoughts—and on getting the sand and gravel out of her clothes—that she didn't feel her lovers' schedules fall out of her cargo pants. She slipped into the shower to clean up, and again her mind was so clouded that she didn't hear the door open as Calvin walked in to make sure she was all right. And those slips of paper were right in plain view.

They were strange pieces of paper, with numbers and dates and places on them. One of them seemed to be his own schedule—even his sleeping schedule. Calvin picked them up and studied them. As he read—and recognized the different handwritings—anger, white and hot, began to boil up inside him. His smart, clever wife was _cheating _on him!

Owen was studying a tiny rock as Calvin stormed into the mines. "Morning, Cal," he chirped as the adventurer stomped towards him. "Why the long face?"

Calvin, without warning, grabbed the muscular guy by his shirt and pulled him up to eye level. Owen was a short, though strong, guy. "You're cheating on me with my wife, swine," the man said coldly.

Owen couldn't frame a response. How had he found out? The door to the mine opened again, but both were so focused that they didn't notice.

"I'm not—" he tried to say, but a slap from Calvin shut him up.

"Oh, yes you are," the wounded replied. "I've dealt with better liars in the jungle, separated from civilization, and I _know_ you're lying through your teeth. You and Phoebe are holding hands behind my oblivious back!!"

"OWEN?!" another man's voice cried. Purple and dyed hair swung around the corner and a horrified Julius faced them. "Phoebe….Phoebe _lied_ to me!!"

Calvin and Owen both stared at him. "You, too?!" they both cried in disbelief.

"Oh. Whoops!" Julius waved feebly. "Hiya, Calvin!"

"LYING SNAKE!!!" Calvin roared, dropping Owen to the ground and racing towards the cowering metal smith. Before he could do any harm, however, a familiar voice singing a song passed by the mine. Through the thing rock walls, they heard the blacksmith's door opening and closing as familiar footsteps passed through.

"Phoebe," all three men replied, their eyes simultaneously narrowing. All of the accused and wounded raced out the door, forgetting their rivalry: simply wondering what that lying, clever girl was up to.

Pushing and shoving, the finally reached the door and slammed it open.

Phoebe was sitting on Ramsey's lap, her hair mussed up again.

"Calvin?" she gasped, and then saw the other men. "O-Owen? Julius-s?!"

"PHOEBE!" all owners of said names cried in horror.

"You're _married_?" Ramsey asked in confusion.

Phoebe attempted a smile and a wave. "Hiya, boys."


End file.
